


tlhIngan mu'tay'

by funkylittlesister



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Attraction, Ayala isn't really there, F/F, Friendship, Kissing, Klingon, Language, Mild Smut, My First Smut, Smut, the title is translated in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkylittlesister/pseuds/funkylittlesister
Summary: Seven Of Nine learns to enjoy recreational activities, if they include reviewing certain... skills.
Relationships: Seven of Nine/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	tlhIngan mu'tay'

**Author's Note:**

> I found a challenge on [70thousandlightyearsfromhome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/70thousandlightyearsfromhome)'s [blog](https://70thousandlightyearsfromhome.tumblr.com/post/183825799928/nsfw-body-parts), and since I'm obsessed with Klingonese, I thought I'd give it a go.  
> The title " tlhIngan mu'tay' " translates into "Klingon Vocabulary".  
> The translations are in hover text, or in the end notes if you're on mobile.  
> Hope you enjoy it 😉

The mess hall has become too crowded, they don’t have any holodeck reservations at this time and no one seems to be very enthusiastic about the idea of going to bed. They've been passing through a deserted region of space for a few days, nothing interesting to explore and nothing that requires any extra attention or work. Every crewmember has been getting enough sleep. Therefore, the idea of sleep isn't as appealing as it was a few weeks ago.

“Let's just go to my quarters,” B'Elanna says, taking matters into her own hands, as usual, to avoid wasting any more time.

They've been trying to decide what to do for at least thirty minutes and B'Elanna’s Klingon temper has almost reached its limit. Most of the people who were sitting with them in the mess hall have gone to attend other activities, and only four of them are left, heading to her quarters. Tom insists they continue playing his historical trivia game, while Harry tries to come up with new games lacking any logical basis. Seven watches B'Elanna swing her arms over each one of the boys' shoulders and wonders if she is not intruding. They have accepted her in their friends' group and continuously invite her to "tag along", yet she can't help feeling as if she does not quite belong.

“How about,” B'Elanna starts in a teasing tone that suggests she is annoyed but trying to stay calm, “we sit, have some drinks and just talk, like normal people.”

As soon as they enter the room, Harry Kim throws himself onto the bed. That level of familiarity and comfort seems too alien to Seven, who sits straight on the couch.

“Ayala to Paris. Where are you?”

“Oh my god. I completely forgot. I'll be there right away." He turns to his friends. "I'm sorry. I promised Ayala I would help him change a few details in his holonovel. I guess you'll have to find a way to have fun without me.”

“Seriously?” Ensign Kim stands up. He seems displeased. “This night just keeps getting worse and worse. I'm just gonna go to bed.”

B'Elanna tries to convince him to stay. But he is determined that it will only upset him further to see the evening become "more boring than it already is".

They both leave the room and she looks at Seven.

“I guess that leaves just you and me.”

“Perhaps you would prefer if I left.”

“No, please stay. I've had enough time alone the last few days, I could use a little company. Besides...” she hesitates, “we've never been alone outside of work shifts, we’ve never gotten to talk about anything other than the warp core. Maybe we should try it.”

Seven welcomes the idea of socializing with Lieutenant Torres, although she is uncertain if she will be successful. She looks at her, confused. She remembers The Doctor's advice, "sometimes you can just start with anything that's been on your mind, it doesn't have to be relevant to the situation."

“I have been thinking lately,” she stops, tilting her head to the side, “about the fact that the Borg do not conserve irrelevant data. I often find myself lacking knowledge about certain subjects, and I am uncertain whether it is because the Collective dismissed that information or if my human physiology has made my memory patterns less efficient."

B'Elanna raises her eyebrows and her eyes widen in a failed attempt to express interest.

“What kind of information, for example?”

“Klingon vocabulary. I am capable of conducting a conversation, but I cannot recall all the words...” she lifts her hand up. “May I?”

B'Elanna doesn't understand what the question is, but nods.

Seven places a hand on her friend's face, and moves her thumb gently over her ridges, “Quch—” down to her cheek, “qevpob—” and places her finger on her lip. It is unclear if Seven is distracted or if she is still searching for the right word.

“wuS,” Torres helps her.

As she slowly starts moving her hand away from the Klingon’s face. B'Elanna holds it and mutters her name, pulling her closer. Seven doesn't have the time to process the situation before she is pulled into a kiss. A kiss that lasts longer than expected, that gets more heated with each passing second. B'Elanna pushes her further into the couch and climbs on top of her, biting her cheekbone before kissing her neck. Seven's hands find their way to the Klingon’s waist, who takes them into her own and slides them down slowly.

“Sa'Hut,” B'Elanna says.

“Sa'Hut,” Seven repeats.

She squeezes the skin under her palms as B'Elanna's tongue brushes over the roof of her mouth and leaves an enjoyable tingling feeling.

Removing her uniform jacket, B'Elanna pulls away and asks Seven if she would find the bed more comfortable. They both agree. Seven watches her get out of her clothes, before doing so herself and joining her on the bed. She climbs on top of her, gazing intently at her naked body.

“Your noqDu' are erect,” she notes.

“Good.” The Klingon smiles as she places a hand in Seven’s hair, sets it loose and pulls her head down to her breasts.

She sighs with pleasure and, after a few seconds, pulls the ex-Borg’s head back up to her mouth, so that their bodies align, and slides her hand from Seven’s _volchaH_ to her _logh'ob_ , down her  _burgh_ until she reaches her… “DaynguH?”

Torres giggles. “ghobe’. DaynguHDu’ Daghajbe'. qey'Hav Daghaj.”

She does not give her time to acknowledge. She moves her hand swiftly and softly in a manner that Seven has never experienced before and Seven gives into the feeling, forgetting about Klingon anatomy, Human anatomy or any other _irrelevant data_. As she starts to think she has felt enough and is ready to bid Lieutenant Torres good night, get dressed and leave, B'Elanna moves her hand even deeper, going inside her. Seven is taken by surprise and a moan escapes her. She cannot control her breathing, cannot contain her groans, as B'Elanna’s movements get stronger and faster.

“qey'Hav,” she whispers breathlessly. “qey'Hav,” she repeats with every thrust. She does not comprehend the comfort she finds in the repetition of this word or the pleasure she finds in the repetition of this movement. But her mind cannot search for an answer, does not want to search for an answer.

She sucks at her lover’s neck, until she can’t control her actions. Her mouth moves unprompted, with the same rhythm of the fingers that are pleasuring her. Her hands are moving over B'Elanna’s body, too quickly for her to follow. She can’t feel her legs. She pants into the Klingon’s ear; she is too weak to hold her body up. B'Elanna gives one last thrust, delicately but rapidly, and Seven releases a cry and throws her body onto the bed. She watches B'Elanna grin at the ceiling before closing her eyes and relaxing her muscles, her right arm over the other’s bare stomach.

A few minutes pass, B'Elanna gently removes Seven’s arm from her body and stands up, walking away.

“I have not reviewed all of my vocabulary.” Seven sits up on the bed.

“Then I guess you’ll have to come back some other day and finish your lesson.” The Klingon smiles.

Seven watches her naked body as she walks towards the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Quch = forehead  
> qevpob = cheek  
> wuS = lip  
> Sa'Hut = ass/buttocks  
> noqDu' = nipples (sing:nipple=noq)  
> volchaH = shoulder  
> logh'ob = chest  
> burgh = stomach  
> DaynguH = testicle (plural:DaynguHDu’)  
> ghobe’ = no  
> “ghobe’. DaynguHDu’ Daghajbe'. qey'Hav Daghaj.” = “No. You don’t have testicles. You have a vagina.”  
> qey'Hav = vagina  
> \-----  
> \- It's my first smut, feel free to give any remarks or advice in the comments.  
> Thanks, [thesadchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken), for beta reading it for me.


End file.
